


Saved

by thegreatficmaster



Series: Harry Potter Collection [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, F/M, Gen, M/M, Protective Oliver Wood, Reader-Insert, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 04:06:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20401399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatficmaster/pseuds/thegreatficmaster
Summary: Oliver finds Y/n after almost two months without him.





	Saved

It’d been…days? Weeks?

Maybe even months…

You had no idea how long you’ve been here.

Kept in the dingy cellar, barely any light. The cold seeped into your bones, making you shiver constantly.

The only times you weren’t cold was when they’d take you upstairs, but by that time, you were shivering with fear.

You hated seeing him. Seeing his face. His horrible slitted eyes. The nose, practically gone now.

He terrified you. Hell, you could see everyone else was terrified as well.

They tortured you over and over, your body moving against your own will, twisting and writhing in pain.

Luckily, it’d been a few days since he was around. He’d disappeared for a while.

The only people around were the Malfoys and Bellatrix. And Peter Pettigrew.

They mostly left you alone, unless Bellatrix needed to have a little fun and release some of her madness.

But then he found you. You had no idea how, but he snuck in. He freed you.

He took you out of there.

The whole time, you said nothing.

Was this an illusion? A hallucination? Your mind creating images, possibly in the last moments of your life?

Or was it a trick?

Were they using him? Making him do all of this?

You had no idea. So you stayed silent, letting him carry you out of the cellar and out of the house.

The sudden coldness outside was harsh.

Harsher than inside the cellar.

It hit your face, already pale and gaunt.

The last thing you remembered was the crack that echoed through the air, your body being placed on something warm and soft. 

Your eyes fluttered, a soft heat on your side.

You turned, eyes still heavy with dread and exhaustion.

You were terrified to open them when you smelt the fire, wood burning.

God, were they going to burn you now?

Mark your skin. Give you an eternal reminder of what they had done, even if you already had the memories you knew you’d carry forever?

“You ok?”

The voice was familiar.

Soft. Calm. Soothing. Concerned. Loving.

God, how long had it been since you’d heard someone care for you? How long had it been since you’d had someone hold you like this, caressing your arms, holding you close as you uncontrollably lost control, sobbing and clutching him tight.

He didn’t loosen his grip, trying to calm you and make sure you knew he was there.

God, he was a mess himself right now.

It’d been almost two months.

Two months of you being moved everywhere until they’d finally settled at the Malfoy Manor, only two weeks ago.

Oliver had to figure out how to get in.

How to find a way to you, get you and take you out of there, all the while having to make sure no one caught you and no one would be able to recapture both you and him.

It took planning.

Oliver was always meticulous.

He always made plans.

But those regarded flying on a broom, trying to catch balls.

This was different.

This was your life on the line.

It took more time. Time he hated having to waste. Time he wished he was able to spend with you.

But then he found a way in.

A hidden entrance, luckily still open.

He went there as fast as he could.

God, the state he saw you in when he walked in.

Your clothes were rags, damp and dirty,

Blood stained almost every inch of you.

And your eyes.

Eyes that once shone for him, were empty and broken.

He knew he should’ve expected the worst, but this…this was beyond what he could imagine.

And he knew it’d take a while to heal you.

Not just physically, but emotionally.

This would haunt you. He already knew that.

And god, he wished he could cast a spell.

Make you forget the memories.

And he could. He really could.

But he knew, you’d never want that. You wouldn’t want any part of your life ripped from you, not even something as horrific as this.

No. You’d always gone on about fighting. Winning your battles. Overcoming the monsters that haunted you.

So he resisted his urges. He didn’t reach for the want that sat on the table behind you. He didn’t simply erase the trauma.

No. He just held you.

He held you close, calming you with his presence and love. Holding you, promising silently, to himself and you, that he’d never let you out of sight again.

He wasn’t losing you.

He’d be there. Every step of the way, he’d be there.

He’d be there for the nightmares. He’d be there for the sleepless nights, the months of crying, shaking in fear.

He’d be there to watch the light begin to return in your eyes. He’d be there to accompany you every step of the way.

He wasn’t leaving you alone. Never.

Oliver Wood promised himself, he’d always be there for you from now on. He promised that he would heal and love you.

And he’d keep that promise and so much more.


End file.
